


Havalin, The Rogue.

by Chrystallene



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Sindorei - Freeform, Warcraft - Freeform, Wow, blood elf, queldorei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrystallene/pseuds/Chrystallene
Summary: A one shot about my character, Havalin Brasshide pondering his wedding with my friend's character, Rosala Silvershield. Wanting to do better than his brothers, he goes to ask his sister-in-law for some advice.





	Havalin, The Rogue.

_Fuck._

Havalin peered at his now bloody chin, pressing a wad of toilet paper up to the torn flesh. Of course he would cut himself while _shaving_ of all things. He could wield a dagger with perfection, yet the simplest of tasks he seemed to struggle with. 

Brows furrowing, he gave a soft shake of his head. It wasn't like he didn't have other things on his mind to distract him, but he was ashamed all the same of his mistake. The mirror reflected back at him someone that was supposed to be put together, yet he never really felt that was the case. He felt like he was still just a kid, yet the marriages and talk of starting families were already looming before him. He knew these things were to be expected of him, and that nobody really liked these situations, but unfortunately in the game of politics children often ended up being used as bargaining chips instead of being allowed to marry who they loved or have any control over their lives at all, for that matter.

Havalin considered himself lucky, the talks of a marriage for him were happening, but it was someone he didn't mind spending time with. She seemed smart, and had impressive combat skills - she was even more skilled than he was. He thought they would be alright, if that was the path their parents chose for them. He counted his lucky stars that his situation wasn't like his brother, Tharixmundar's. His wife was distant towards him, and whenever he saw them together she seemed to fall into herself in silence. Their wedding had an aura of awkwardness that everyone saw, and she'd kept herself hidden away ever since.

Truthfully, he had no idea what she or his brother were up to, despite living on the estate grounds. He only ever saw Tharixmundar when he left for a hunt and at the occasional shared mealtime. Havalin, however, didn't mind not being around his brother. He was kind and strong, but at times could have a temper. Thankfully, he knew better than to use his cruel words on his wife. Havalin was absolutely certain of it. It wouldn't end well for him if he did.

Havalin thought himself to be a man of simple desires, he wanted to be around his family and perhaps, if it was what his wife wanted, a family of his own, but he had always vowed to never pressure whoever he ended up with. He didn't want to be like the other men in his family- he wanted to be gentle and patient, despite what he had been taught. He wanted to be the perfect husband for whomever he ended up with, because he sure as fuck didn't want his wife moping around while he was expected to attend to his duties. Even if he didn't love her when they got married, he still wanted to keep her as happy as he could manage.

Careful hands pulled the paper from his face, allowing his thoughts to go back to the task at hand. He had a dinner to attend, another with the Silvershield family. The process to decide seemed to take forever- much longer than with Tharixmundar and Cynleria. The idea for his marriage to their daughter, Rosala, had been on the table since before Tharixmundar's wedding, and this process was only getting started.

Havalin wasn't one to be particularly invested in his appearance, but his mother had instructed him on what to wear and how to style his hair. He'd bit his tongue when a sarcastic remark tried to escape his lips; _what, mother? Would you like to wipe my ass, too while you're at it?_

He'd tied his dark locks into a braid draped carefully across his shoulder, silver pin holding the style in place. He looked nicer than usual, other than the gash across his face, but he hoped it would be less noticeable once Rosala and her family got to their home. Giving himself a final once over, he gave himself a nod of approval before heading out of his room. 

Their home was quite grand, but Havalin had seen much nicer. Rosala's family had a beautiful estate, and he was honestly surprised her parents had any interest in their family at all. He didn’t question it, however he had a hunch it had something to do with his training. He was the youngest, and had the best assassin training in his family. He was a valuable asset to his parents whether he liked to think about it or not.

Feet made their way down the home's steps, finding himself drawn to the kitchen. It smelled heavenly- cooks carrying heavy pots of different stews and soups, made from meat brought home by Tharixmundar himself. Havalin, however, found himself reaching for the plate of cookies sitting unattended on the kitchen's island. He had something in mind for the treats, carefully sneaking away with the entire plate. He may get in trouble for such a bold move, but he knew someone that needed them more.

Checking the clock, he made sure he had plenty of time before the guests arrived before carefully slipping out the kitchen door. A smirk tugged at his lips, imaging his parent's frustrations should they think he'd tried to run away.

Boots padded softly in the grass as he made his way to a house further on the property. It was of course Tharixmundar and Cynleria’s home, but Havalin knew that Tharixmundar wouldn't be around. They'd sent him and Vindicus out on a hunt to be out of everyone's hair for wedding preparations. The two could get rowdy, they didn't have the same discipline that he and Setharian did when it came to their emotions. This wasn't something Havalin wanted to think about, however, allowing himself to shake such thoughts from his head. 

Reaching their house, he was quick to smooth any stray hairs from his head, before allowing himself to knock on the door. It wasn't long before he could hear heeled footsteps ringing through the foyer. A bright smiled Cynleria pulled open the door, but Havalin noticed she seemed tired. Dark circles pooled under her soft blue eyes, and she didn't seem as well put together in the way Havalin was used to. Her hair hung limp at the sides of her head, rather than in an updo as she usually had it, robes plain. Cynleria of course, wasn't expected at the dinner, but it was still strange to see her in such a state.

"Havalin! Come in!" Her tone was cheerful, despite Havalin knowing she was hiding something. "Don't you have a dinner to get to? Don't expect me to hide you, young man." Cynleria let out a laugh, hand patting Havalin on the shoulder. 

Havalin offered her a smile, shaking his head. He handed her the plate of cookies before taking a breath. "No, not that. I was just wondering if I could ask you for some advice!" He said, following Cynleria into the home. It was in pristine condition, aside from a myriad of books sprawled across the sitting room floor- Cynleria was such a bookworm, always reading up on magic and such. Havalin barely found the time for reading, only able to read for his studies. However, he assumed that Cynleria had a lot of free time on her hands these days. 

Cynleria led Havalin into their sitting room, gesturing for him to sit down on the couch next to her. She simply nodded at his request, taking a cookie off the plate and shoving it into her mouth. Havalin once again gave her a soft smile, before asking his question.

"A-are you happy?" He asked, hands gripping the fabric on the sofa. "I'm just worried that Rosala will be unhappy with me, and I don't want her to be sad. I know there's nothing I can do to stop things, but do you think we could be happy? If I treat her well enough?" 

Cynleria furrowed her brows at his question, leaning back into the couch cushions before she answered him. "Sometimes, these things are out of our control. But if you treat her nicely, and are patient with her, she may come around! Just treat her as your friend, and don't pressure her, alright?" Havalin watched a smile tug at her lips, but she didn't answer the first part of his question. 

Havalin folded his arms across his chest, repeating the first part of the question. He needed to know the answer. "But are you happy?" He asked again, thoughts returning to the Quel'dorei that had attended the ball before her and Tharixmundar's wedding. "What if… What if Rosala has someone like the blonde guy that was at your party?" He didn't mean to be so blunt with his words, but he wasn't sure how else to put it.

"What!" Cynleria seemed panicked at the mention of the elf, "He was just my friend." She paused for a moment, but Havalin watched the blush creep across her features. "If she did love somebody else, well. There's nothing anyone can do about that. Hopefully with time she will grow to love you, but feelings can never be forced. I know you, though, Havalin. You're the kindest of the Brasshide's. You will do your best, and that's all you can do." 

She must've remembered she didn't respond to his question as she was quick to add, "Truthfully… I'm unhappy. You can see it I'm sure. But with time I'm sure I'll learn to love Tharixmundar. I just have to give it a chance." 

Havalin nodded. "I suppose you're right. It takes time, you didn't know Tharixmundar for that long before our parents made you two get married. I should go, I think. But I'll come back later. Do you want to play cards or something? I'll see if Rosala and I can sneak away to visit." 

Havalin offered a toothy grin to Cynleria, who then smiled back at him before he watched her nod her head. "Of course, you're always welcome here, Havalin. Have fun at your dinner, alright?"

He allowed himself to sigh once he was out of earshot from Cynleria. Brows furrowed at the results of their conversation, and he knew he couldn't live with himself if he was taking Rosala away from someone she cared for, as Tharixmundar had done to Cynleria. Regardless if it wasn't on purpose, he still hated the prospect. He gave his head one final shake as he tried to push the thoughts from his mind. 

There would be a time to worry about this later. In the meantime, he had to put on a brave face for his family. 


End file.
